


Plead the Fifth

by imperfectinsanity



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Farm/Ranch, Eventual Sex, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-25
Updated: 2014-04-25
Packaged: 2018-01-20 14:33:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,932
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1514000
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imperfectinsanity/pseuds/imperfectinsanity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Forbidden romance takes a new turn in the love story of Castiel Novak and Dean Winchester. In a small town, everyone keeps tabs on their neighbors, making a closeted romance an impossible phenomenon. Against all odds Castiel, a young farmhand, falls in love with the farmer's son, turning his world upside down. This is a story that questions loyalties, challenges morality, and defines what it means to be truly free. The choice is simple, the consequences dire: Which would you rather have, peace or freedom?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Plead the Fifth

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoy the first chapter of what I hope to be a long-going story. I don't usually continue my fanfictions, but the more you urge me on with reviews, the more likely I will continue, and the faster I will. Please, leave comments, favorite, and share.

_But after this, I plead the fifth. Before my fall, after your lift, I swore I heard you say that hallelujah._

_-Seedysunflower.tumblr.com (Plead the Fifth, a Destiel fansong)_

* * *

 

Sunlight beat down on the bare, tawny, skin of Castiel Novak's back. His first day of work was already off to an ambitious start. His fingers were blistered from shucking corn for hours before in the morning, when the sun had just kissed the horizon line. The harsh labor, though demanding, was worth the pay he was receiving; especially considering his lack of experience. A bead of sweat rolled down his cheek, falling into the dry dirt. Still, he kept his fingers curled around the shaft of the shovel he was using. His current job was to dig up some trenches along the sides of the main house and plant a few rose bushes. It had seemed like simple task at first, but the dry heat was making it much more difficult than expected. Castiel looked up at the cloudless, blue, sky and took a deep breath, as if he could suck up that beautiful atmosphere and disappear into dust. 

Working on the Winchester farm was an ordeal. There were only a few other farmhands around, and most of them looked about ready to throw in the towel. The work was challenging. Cas had no right to complain though. Even John Winchester himself worked on the farm, and his jobs were just as laborious as anyone else's. He admired that work ethic of John's. When Castiel first moved into town a week ago, he'd gone out to drink and hear a little bit about his neighbors from the townspeople. There were plenty of rumors about the Winchesters, considering their high status and wealth. For example, people seemed to think that John Winchester beat his boys. Cas hadn't run into John's sons yet, but he definitely didn't seem like the violent type. Cas didn't put too much stock into what the people at the bar told him. After all, they were all drunk and just looking to tell a few tall tales.

Castiel gagged, his throat parched from the dust thrown up in the air each time he dug the shovel into the ground. He half-wanted to go find John and ask him for a break, or at least a drink, but something told him that wouldn't be a good idea. He didn't want to come off as lazy on his first day of work. So, instead, Castiel continued digging to the end of the side of the house. He admired his work, then moved around the back, digging out another row of the trench. Another half hour passed and he was halfway down the backside of the house, sweating like a pig.

Setting the shovel up against the side of the building, Cas decided to go get that drink. He had gotten a lot done, anyways, so it was deserved. Wiping his hands on his overalls, Cas sombered over by the pens, where he'd last seen John Winchester. On his way over, he couldn't help but pause and really take everything in. The land was so flat and open. It reminded of his childhood. He grew up in a small town like Lawrence, on his own little farm, with one horse to his name. He used to go out riding everyday. That was before the farm was sold off, his horse with it. He didn't blame anyone. His family hit rough times and they couldn't afford to keep it under their control. They moved to a nearby city, but Cas detested that life. He hated the city and the pollution and the constant noise. As soon as he hit 18 years old he moved out, driving halfway across the country and stopping in several towns along the way. He'd lived in Ohio for awhile, then South Dakota, and finally, at the ripe age of 21, he decided to plant himself in Lawrence.

Cas arrived at the pens, a few of the horses lifting their heads to get a good look at him. A soft smile touched his lips, and he bowed his head to the coal black horse that was eyeing him. 

He listened to the soft  _pat-pat_ of hooves tapping against the ground from somewhere behind him. Turning on his heels, he spotted John Winchester, standing in open section of the corral, leaning against the fence. He wasn't the only one there, however. Cas raised his head, blue eyes examining the man sitting upon the brown and white spotted horse. Neither of the men spotted him, though, so he took a step closer, watching. The man on the horse was definitely younger than John, though they shared some features. He had dark, dirty-blonde hair, and freckles that stood out even from where Castiel was standing. A shiver traveled the length of Castiel's spine, like he had been hit with a chill. That was impossible though, considering the dry heat of the afternoon. _  
_

Focusing back on the figure, Castiel quietly observed as the man grabbed a hold of his horse's reigns, giving them a tug before galloping around the square a few times. The horse and rider came upon a small hurdle, and the rider jerked the reigns back again. The horse leaped over the obstacle, and the man riding him gave a little grin. He had the brightest smile Cas had ever seen. It was almost blinding to look at in the bright daylight.

Satisfied with what he saw, Castiel walked over to the gate of the corral, carefully opening it. It gave a little squeak, which caught John's attention. The older man turned his head, giving his worker a nod of acknowledgment. 

"Hello, John." Castiel greeted, a warm smile gracing his lips. 

"Dean! Get over here. I wanna introduce you to one of our farmhands. He's new in town." John called to the boy on the horse's back, who was apparently one of the infamous Winchester boys. 

The boy, Dean, slid off the side of his horse, grabbing the reigns and casually guiding his horse over to the nearest post. He wrapped the reigns around the pole, tying it off before strolling over toward the two of them. He had a hitch in his walk, and just a slight bow-leggedness. He was even more handsome close up, which Cas might have thought impossible if he wasn't seeing it with his own eyes. He gave a little nervous grin, holding his hand out to Dean. 

"Nice to meetcha. I'm Dean Winchester. I apologize that you have to work under this asshole's management." He teased, shaking Castiel's hand and gesturing toward his father, who just scoffed and rolled his eyes in response.

"Castiel Novak. I just moved in next door. And..." Pausing, Cas glanced over at John, then back to Dean. "Asshole or not, because of this guy I have a job." 

Dean laughed at that, breaking the handshake. 

"I like you." 

Cas smiled in response and licked his chapped lips and shifting his gaze between John Winchester and his son.

"So what can I do for ya', Castiel?" John Winchester asked, bringing his attention back to the task at hand.

"Oh! Right. I was just wondering if I could get a quick drink. I've been working out in the heat for the past few hours and I think I need a refresher." He admitted, a guilty chuckle escaping his lips.

"Sure thing. Dean, why don't you go get him a beer? I'll put ol' Josie back in her pen." John nodded toward his son.

"Yeah. C'mon, Cas." Dean said, opening the gate for the other boy. Cas walked out, followed by Dean. "I can call you Cas, right?" 

"Definitely. It's better than what my brother's call me." 

"Yeah, and what do your brothers call you?" Dean asked, his interest piqued.

"Oh no way Winchester. I am not giving you ammo against me within the first five minutes of meeting you." Castiel responded, laughing quietly under his breath. "Nice try though."

"I'll get it out of ya soon enough. I have that charm."

Castiel rolled his eyes, trailing behind Dean, who led him to the front porch of the main house. 

"You' been working on putting these rose bushes in, right?" He nodded toward the unplanted rose bushes that sat in the corner of the porch.

"Yeah. Almost all day."

"Yeah, well, it doesn't look like you got very far. All the bushes are still there." Dean teased, opening the screen door and letting Cas slide in after him.

"I'm digging the trenches right now, asshole." 

"Oh you got me."

Cas rolled his eyes, but he couldn't help the little smile that threatened at the corners of his lips. 

Inside, the house seemed even larger than it did when he was digging trenches around its perimeter. The entry room was cool, refreshing, and the floors and walls were a beautiful, polished, mahogany. Despite their wealth, however, there was a lack of decor. Of course, without a female figure in the home, that was to be expected. John Winchester hadn't seemed like one to care much about appearances. Castiel knew that the mother figure had died a long time ago, but when he questioned the townspeople no one seemed to like talking about it.

Dean's footsteps echoed through the hallway that he lead Cas through. This was one area that was decorated quite nicely. There were pictures hung on either side of the hall, of people Cas could only assume were family members. There was one picture, much larger than the others, that stood out. It was a young, beautiful woman, with blonde hair and blue-green eyes. There was a little plaque beneath her portrait with her name,  _Mary Winchester._

"Is this your mother...?" Castiel asked in a hushed tone.

Dean turned around to see what Cas was talking about, walking over to him and placing a hand on his shoulder. He didn't say anything for a moment, just admiring the old photograph of the woman named Mary. Finally, he gave a nod.

"Yeah. That's her. She was a real looker, huh?" A sad smile touched Dean's lips, but it faded as quickly as it had appeared.

"She is..." Castiel took a breath, wondering if he should question any further. This was probably a sensitive subject.

"You're wondering what happened to her, right?" Dean questioned, though it was more of a statement than anything. "She died when I was four. It was a riding accident... Horse trampled her." He sighed, dropping his hand from Castiel's shoulder. The silence afterward was heavy, weighing on both of their shoulders.

"I'm sorry to hear that." Cas finally breathed, breaking his gaze from the portrait to look at Dean. There was such a clear resemblance between Dean and his mother. It was shocking.

"It's fine. It was a long time ago..." There was a weak smile, but Cas saw right through it.

"Anyways..." Dean coughed, gesturing toward the end of the hall. "Let's get you that beer, huh?"

Giving a solid nod, Cas started to walk down the hall again, Dean behind him this time. He stopped at the end, turning left into the kitchen. 

"Make yourself comfortable." Dean directed, motioning to the small wooden table in the corner and walking over to the small ice box by a doorway the lead to the living room. 

Castiel sat down, his gaze lifting to watch out the window. He could see a few farmhands working the fields, and he felt a little pang of guilt that he was sitting inside, in the cool air-conditioned kitchen, while they were out there working their hind-ends off.

Dean let the lid of the icebox slam shut, sending little fragments of frost across the tile floor. He set a beer down in front of Cas, sitting across from him and popping the cap off of his own drink. Wasting no time, Cas picked his bottle up, enjoying that moment when the cold condensation touched his palm, his guilt melting away. He broke the lid off, listening to that satisfying popping song and the soft hiss of his drink before taking a long swig. He wasn't much of a drinker, but given the temperature out today, he was happy for the refreshment.

"Thank you, Dean." 

"No problem. You deserve it. I saw you working out there earlier today." Dean paused, setting his drink down on the table. "You know, you've got one of the best work ethics on this farm. Better than half these old guys." He bobbed his head toward the window, gesturing to some of the older men, plowing.

"You don't have to say that..." Cas mumbled bashfully, scratching the back of his neck. "I just do what I'm told."

"I see that." Dean laughed, fingers tracing the neck of his bottle. "Do you ever think about just... Not doing what you're told?"

"No, not really."

"Well, that's lame."

"Well..." Castiel took another big gulp of his drink. "Following the rules has gotten me this far. Shouldn't I keep doing what works?"

Dean thought about that for a moment, his hazel-green eyes falling, but a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "See... I have this theory."

Castiel leaned in, interested.

"You can live life one of two ways." Dean held up one finger, to make his point. "You can play it safe and have a peaceful life. Or..." He put a second finger up. "You can let go and be free to choose how you want to live in the moment. That's why I like riding... When you're on the back of horse you have to make split second choices... and you can just feel the adrenaline rush through your veins. You're hair whipping with the wind, stinging your cheeks, and the sun scarring your back. One wrong choice and you can wind up dead." 

Cas was silent, recalling his times on the farm when he was a child. He remembered that feeling of complete freedom, the feeling of being able to escape whenever you wanted to.

"So you're saying that breaking the rules is like riding a horse?"

"That's exactly what I'm saying."

"I've never thought of it that way, but I'm not going to start disobeying your father's orders. He is my boss, after all."

Dean hid a smile, looking down into the barrel of his bottle of beer. Cas picked his own bottle up, swirling the brownish liquid around and watching it splash against the smooth glass walls. He took a sip, allowing a moment of quiet before speaking.

"So... do you like riding for competition?"

"Nah..." Dean kicked his feet up on an empty keg nearby, staring out the window. "I don't like riding for sport."

"I never liked it much either."

"You've gone out riding?" Dean asked, turning his attention to Cas, his curiosity obviously piqued.

"My family used to own a little farm in southern Virginia. We only had one little horse, but it was better than nothing." He explained, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a pack of cigarettes. He placed one between his lips, then passed one to Dean. He lit his first, then touched the end to Dean's to light it.

"Thanks." The other man hummed, taking the end of the cigarette between his lips and inhaling.

"Not a problem. It's the least I can do for your hospitality." Cas responded, motioning toward his bottle. 

"Yeah, and that's not even the good stuff." Dean murmured, looking toward the clock. It was only noon. "You said you like riding, right? How long 'till you get off work?"

"I should be done with this last job around 3..." He answered, trying to hide the smile that threatened to sneak up on his lips.

"Well then..." Dean stood up, putting his cigarette butt out in the nearest ashtray. "I'll see you at 4? That'll give ya' time to grab a quick shower. Meet me at the stalls."

"Sounds like a date." Castiel agreed, standing up and reaching out to shake Dean's hand.  

He took a few more hits of his cigarette, watching the smoke drift from his lips and fade into the air before snuffing it out in the ash tray. As he left the kitchen, he couldn't help but turn to look back at Dean, who was staring absently out of the window. Cas felt a little pang in his stomach, something between the fluttery feeling of butterflies in his stomach and a knot forming somewhere in his gut.

Turning on his heels, Cas walked back down the hallway, out into that blinding heat. He picked up his shovel again, refreshed and ready to work. His thoughts drifted in and out as he dug at the stiff ground. For some reason he couldn't stop thinking about the way Dean spoke. There was something alluring about that subtle southern twang, and those perfect bow lips. Cas groaned, wiping the sweat from his forehead. He shouldn't get so worked up. Sure, he and Dean were going out riding later, his first time in years, but that didn't mean it was a date. In fact, he was pretty sure that Dean Winchester was painfully heterosexual. That was one of those rumors he'd heard when he first came into town. Dean had a reputation as a womanizer.

Eventually, Castiel finished digging the trench around the back of the house. Now all he had to do was plant the bushes and pack them in well enough so that the wind wouldn't rip their roots out of the ground. He walked up onto the porch, heaving one bush at a time, carefully carrying them with his thick gardener gloves. Somehow he managed to pack every bush into the trenches without getting scratches all over his palms. He stood back, admiring his work, a grin on his lips. Tossing the gloves to the ground, Cas checked his watch. 3:30. He'd finished a little later than he had expected. 

Cas turned toward his house, picking up his pace. Dirt flew up behind him, sending up clouds of dust that rolled across the pavement. He slammed the screen door shut of his tiny cottage home, immediately stripping from his filthy farmer's overalls. He took his time with the shower, however, getting all of the dust and dirt off of him, and combing the knots out of his hair. It had been awhile since he'd trying to impress anyone. Shutting the water off, Cas stepped out and grabbed his towel, wrapping it around his waist. He stared into the steamed-up mirror, fixing his hair.

"Geez, Cas... You're acting like a teenage girl..." He mumbled to himself, brushing his hair back and sighing. It was absolutely ridiculous. 

He walked out of the bathroom, the billows of steam following him down the hallway. The whole house smelt of smoke and disinfectant, but it wasn't unpleasant. It almost had a homey feel to it. Cas entered his bedroom, rummaging through his dresser to find a decent pair of clothes. He wanted something casual, but nothing with holes or stains. He settled on a graphic tee-shirt and a pair of blue jeans. It was an outfit he didn't care much about, so he wouldn't mind getting it a little dirty, but it looked like he actually put a little consideration into it.

He glanced at his watch again. He had five minutes. Grabbing his smokes, Cas ran out the door, stuffing them in his pocket. He skidded to a slow walk when he saw Dean, leaning against a fence of the corral, holding the reigns of two horses. There was the horse from earlier; the beautiful brown and white speckled horse, and there was the smokey black horse that had given Castiel a onceover earlier. Castiel couldn't help a small smile, as if Dean had personally picked that horse out for him. He opened the gate, and he could feel Dean's eyes following him. 

"Just in time." The Winchester boy greeted with a ribbing nod and a wink. He was chewing on a piece of barley, and Cas would be darned if that wasn't the most attractive thing he'd seen in a long time. 

"Sorry." Castiel laughed, brushing his fingers through his damp hair. "I figured you wouldn't want me all hot, sweaty, and dirty."

"Oh... I don't know. I don't think I'd mind that." 

Cas felt a flush break out on his cheeks, threatening to spread to his neck. He swallowed the lump in his throat, not sure if he should feel offended or just embarrassed.

"I'm kidding." Dean added half-heartedly, holding his hand out. Cas stared at it for a moment before realizing that Dean was trying to hand him the reigns to the black horse. He placed his hand overtop of Dean's, curling his fingers around the reigns. There was something electric about that little moment that their hands had touched. It was overwhelming, sweeping through Castiel as fast as it had appeared, but it was definitely there. He took a breath, clearing his head, and picked up the reigns.

"You'll be riding Samantha out." Dean informed, patting a hand against the side of the coal-colored horse. "First we'll make sure you still got the hang of riding. You can do a few laps around the corral, then we'll head out to the fields." 

Castiel grinned, placing a foot on one of the stirrups and pushing himself up. Dean laughed at Cas' attempts to get his other foot over the horse's back.

"Do you need help?" He finally asked, his own horse already tied to one of the posts.

"I...um..." Cas' face was as red as a beet, but he slowly nodded, ashamed. "I'm just so used to the small horse..."

Dean nodded, his laughter dulling to a quiet chuckle. "It's fine. I get it." He sauntered over to the struggling boy, placing one hand on his ankle, the other on his hip. Cas couldn't help but notice the way that Dean's fingers curled, pressing against his skin just slightly, his touch featherlike despite the callouses that covered his skin. Dean gave a push, and Cas managed to hook his other leg around the horse, positioning himself on the saddle. He sighed at the loss of Dean's touch, but happy to have made it onto the horse.

"Good job." Dean congratulated, walking over to his own horse, untying it. He then proceeded to pull himself up onto her back, without much trouble at all. Cas' face fell, a bit jealous of Dean's obvious skill. He couldn't help but feel a sort of stinging resentment toward the Winchester boy. He was handsome, strong, and good with animals. It was all so unfair. 

"What?" Dean asked, and that was when Cas realized he'd been staring. "You're looking at me like a pissed off kitten."

Cas rolled his eyes, snapping the reigns and beginning to ride, without a response. He looped around the corral at least four times, Dean trailing slowly behind him. Then he came to the hurdle, tugging the leather reigns again and feeling a rush when the horse leaped into the air. Something bubbled in his stomach, falling from his lips in the form of cheerful laughter.

Dean grinned, one brow raised. "You'd think you just jumped the Grand Canyon or something."

Castiel huffed, shooting a glare toward the man. "Way to rain on my parade."

"Sorry." He snorted, leading Josie, his horse, toward the gate. "Well, c'mon Cas, Samantha. Time to get out in the open air." 

Tugging the reigns to the left, Castiel followed Dean out. There was only the sound of hooves clopping against the ground and the smacking of the reigns as they road further and further out. The sun was sitting low, so there wasn't an unbearable burn. Cas was riding just behind Dean, giving him time to admire the other man's physique. He had broad, sinewy, shoulders, a thin waist, and beautiful golden hair that glinted in the sunlight. That floating feeling was back in the pit of his stomach, and he felt the blood rise to his cheeks. He shouldn't be looking at the farmer's son like that. Giving his horse a 'giddyup', Castiel managed to catch up, riding side by side. 

"Alright, Cas... Now it's time for some real riding..." Dean called across the gap between them. He was slowing a bit, and Cas followed suit. 

He took that moment to look around. They were in the middle of an expansive field, bordered by the woods and the farm, way off in the distance. The only thing in their immediate vicinity were stalks of wheat, waving back in forth in gentle breeze. He took a deep breath, enjoying the fresh cotton smell. 

"This wasn't 'real riding'?" Castiel asked, a bit of confusion in his tone.

"Not like what you're about the experience. This whole area..." Dean opened his arms, as if to make a point. "Is ours for the taking. Go as fast as you can. Ride. Be free. Take risks."

Cas licked his lips, feeling the nerves creeping back up on him. This was risky. They had no protective gear, and no one was within at least 5 minutes of them, 10 if they rode out farther.

"Dean I don't know i-"

"No, Cas."

"I-"

"What do you want Cas? Do you want to play it safe all your life?"

"No."

"Live a little." He grinned before galloping off in no particular direction.

There was an infinitesimal pause before Castiel took off in the opposite direction. The world was flying by so fast, the wind lashing against his face, whipping his hair back into a tangled mess. Dirt flew up into the air, and billowing clouds of dust constantly hovered around the horse's hooves. He felt as if he was floating off the ground, and it was amazing. Head tilted up to the sky, undulated laughter filling the atmosphere to the brim with pure joy. He was so lost in the moment, that he barely noticed when a second presence joined him, but he sensed it there, just a few feet away. There was a pull that he couldn't deny. Castiel dropped his head, taking a glimpse at the handsome farmer's boy. He was once again hit with the pure, unadulterated, beauty that was Dean Winchester. The grin hadn't left his face, and Dean wore a similar expression.

They rode like that for what seemed like hours, the loud silence deafening.

The sun sank beneath the trees, just a dull glow by the time the two had decided to bring the horses back in. They filed back into the corral, each hopping off of their respective horses. Castiel nearly fell, but he managed to maintain his dignity. Dean, observant as he was, snorted at the near slip-up. Cas just rolled his eyes, learning to ignore Dean's occasional snark and teasing demeanor. He handed the reigns over to him, trying not to linger on that static feeling between their touch. 

After the horses were set in the stalls for the night, Dean returned to the corral, leaning next to Castiel and giving a charming smile. 

"That won't work on me." Cas teased, watching a very light flush color Dean's cheeks. Cas laughed, looking away.

"It's getting pretty late. Would you like me to walk you home, Mr. Novak?" The Winchester boy asked, their eyes locking in a moment of quiet understanding. Cas felt the breath get stuck in his throat, so he just nodded. 

The sun had completely fallen, the moon glowing high above the farmland. They walked quietly beside each other, occasionally sneaking looks. Each time Castiel managed to get a moment to observe Dean's soft expression he felt as though he was having a stolen moment that could easily slip between his fingers. 

"So, was that worth getting yourself all showered up for?"

Castiel snorted. "Don't think I did this all for you."

"Oh I wasn't suggesting that."

Castiel rolled his eyes, stuffing his hands in his pockets and looking down before mumbling, "Yeah, it was."

Dean's freckled lips curled up into a smile, but he looked away, hiding the expression. 

"Tomorrow we're having a little bonfire out back. Whole town's gonna be there. You should come." He invited warmly, his gaze meeting Castiel's again. 

"I'll be there." Cas assured, slowing to a stop. They had just reached the sidewalk that lead up to his front porch. 

"So, I'll see you tomorrow, Cas?" Dean asked, his voice dropping a little. He placed a hand on Castiel's shoulder, leaning in so their foreheads were pressed together.

Cas didn't respond. He just stayed quiet, breathing in and out.

He could feel Dean's warm, wet, breath caressing his lips. They were so close... His body was quivering, his knees shaky. There was a magnetic, electric pull, urging them close and yet apart, like ying and yang, push and pull. Still, they remained there. Dean shifted his hands down, gliding his fingertips over Castiel's shoulder, his arm, his wrist, his hand, his sides, then down to his waist, holding it with both of his strong, sturdy hands. 

It was at least five minutes before Castiel finally pulled back, an amiable smile on his lips.

"Goodnight Dean..." He whispered. 

Dean returned the gentle expression, taking a step back. "Goodnight, Cas." 

With that, Dean turned and slowly faded into the night, while Castiel returned home. Though he had only been there for a week, he felt truly home for the first time in a long time.


End file.
